Work This Out
by digitalprints
Summary: You know, you’re not the only one who is scared. I have no clue what it means to be a father...I look at you, and I see a mother. You fuss over everyone. You are great with kids. But me, what do I know about being a father?


_AN_: I sort of came across a revelation while writing this one-shot. I'm not a fluff kind of writer. I'm more adept at writing angst and drama that resolves itself in the end. I'm all for happy endings so rest assured that whenever I do write angst, it will end happily ever after. But I find myself at odds with writing fluff. I can't seem to write one - I mean, I can write fluff but its not all that great. I don't think I have the talent for writing stories that will give you butterflies in your stomach as you read Troy kiss Gabriella - and I'm fine with that. So... lol, I just wanted to share that with you. :) Anyways, this one is not angsty. Its a futuristic fic about Troyella...I couldn't sleep last night and I found myself writing this at 2 am in the morning so sorry if some parts might be confusing and what not. I hope you enjoy reading it.

_Disclaimer_: I don't own anything.

* * *

**Work This Out**

"So let me get this straight, you left your pregnant wife all by herself in that big house of yours?"

"I just needed to get away... clear my head."

"So your pregnant wife - one who nearly hospitalized less than a week ago - is alone?"

I cringe. "Dad. I get it. I left her by herself. I just couldn't't... I would have said something that I didn't mean had I stayed...I… Okay so maybe it was wrong to leave her..."

"Troy, what were you fighting about this time?"

"Baby names. The color of the nursery. The style of the crib. Anything under the sun really. You name it and we've probably argued about it. Actually, its more of her screaming my head off and me inwardly rolling my eyes. So here we are, arguing over everything and anything."

"Troy, it can't be that bad?"

"You're right. Its worse than that," I sigh as I run my hand through my hair, "I never win with anything. She asks for my opinion on the crib and I pick one style and she says she likes the other. I pick one color and she decides on another. I mean, why ask me in the first place? So I just stopped answering... and she had the gall to tell me that I wasn't interested in our baby. I was interested? How priceless is that?" I scoff.

He sits by me and pats me on the back.

"So you guys fought over cribs. I have a feeling that there's something more than that..."

I look around the living room that I grew up in. For the last twenty seven years, not much has changed in the Bolton household. My trophies still sit proudly atop the mantle. Pictures of me are scattered about the shelves, the end tables – it's everywhere really.

I look Dad in the eye and shrug.

"Everything I do, its like it's never good enough for her. I'm never at home. I'm never on time. I'm always late for her doctor's appointments. I'm never there to help her with the nursery. I'm never there to satisfy her pregnancy cravings," I shake my head, "…did I tell you about her latest craving, pickles and peanut butter with mozzarella sauce on the side."

He laughs and recounts mom's equally weird cravings during her pregnancy with me. I guess all pregnant women's taste in food goes south when they encounter pregnancy.

The mood sobers down immediately.

"Did you ever tell Gabriella about what you're feeling? Times like these, you guys have to talk to each other."

"She'll just cry and we'll argue some more and I just don't have the energy to deal with that Dad. I mean, I'm swapped with work. I'm working overtime just to save extra for the baby's future. I'm running around town to get whatever the hell she's craving at the moment only to return to find her asleep or worst, say that she's craving something else. I'm just tired, Dad."

* * *

"...I'm running around town to get whatever the hell she's craving at the moment only to return to find her asleep or worst, say that she's craving something else. I'm just tired, Dad."

I hear Troy as he talks to his Dad. I've been standing outside the Bolton living room for the past few minutes, gathering up the courage to actually enter the room. When I first heard the father and son conversation turn serious, I didn't have the heart to interrupt. This explains why I'm leaning by the wall, away from both of the Bolton males' sight.

When I found out that I was pregnant, I was surprised. We talked about having kids - I wanted at most two while Troy wanted four - but we haven't planned on having one this early in our marriage. Troy and I met ten years ago. I was the newbie in East High and he was their reigning God. Some say it was a coincidence that we met again after our brief performance in the ski lodge during winter break but I thought it was fate. Meeting Troy has been the greatest thing that happened to me. But that's not to say that our relationship have been smooth sailing. We've had our fair share of fights, girls trying to break us up - heck, one even succeeded with a brief break up between Troy and I during the summer before senior year - but for the last ten years, yes, we've been together for ten years, our relationship was - is, stable, safe, happy.

Shortly after college, Troy proposed and while both of us were pursuing our masters' degree in our respective fields, we were also wrapped up with planning our wedding. After getting our MBA's, Troy and I tied the knot at a simple wedding in Albuquerque, New Mexico, surrounded by our family and friends. It was perfect - magical even, every girl's dream wedding. We settled into a comfortable life, living in this amazing house that both our parents paid for as our wedding present. We had a routine going - one that disappeared when I found out about the pregnancy. To say that our life became chaotic is an understatement. We just settled into our jobs - into our marriage only to have it disrupted by this unplanned pregnancy. Don't get me wrong, I love our baby. I revel in being pregnant - it was just a tad bit sooner than we expected.

I mean, we were still in our honeymoon stage - partly the reason why we were in this situation right now - and the introduction of a baby into our lives was a little unexpected and took a lot of work on both our parts. But I never knew it affected Troy that much. I knew he was tired. He was coming home late. Hitting the bed and instantly falling asleep. I knew he was tired and I still egged him on. Argued with him about stupid draperies and cribs. Gawd, I was stupid. I am stupid.

I feel several tears falling down my face and I had to hold back down a squeal when a hand touches my shoulder. I look up, wipe away my tears and see Joanne Bolton looking sympathetically at me. She smiles and leads me to the kitchen.

She sits me down by the counter and places a glass of water and a tissue box in front of me. I smile gratefully.

"So, you want to tell me what happened?"

"Its just we've been fighting a lot lately. And we never fight before. Gawd, anything ticks me off easily and I find myself taking it out on Troy. Why can't I just be happy that I have a very attentive husband who puts me before his own needs? Why do I have to be so needy and angry?" A few more tears run down my face. I angrily reach for the tissue box and try to stop the assault of tears I feel coming.

"Honey, all pregnant women are like that. Hormones and all."

"But these pregnancy hormones are making your son hate me."

She gives me a hug and says, "Gabriella, look at me and listen. Troy doesn't hate you."

"Yes he does. He's tired Joanne. He barely gets enough sleep. He's working himself to the grave just to save up for the baby and what do I do? I scream at him over the stupidest things. I blame him for the back pains, for not coming home early, for not bringing me the right food that I'm craving. All I do is nag when he's trying so hard." I am full on bawling now.

"At least you realize your mistakes. Troy doesn't hate you. He loves you. His world revolves around you and the baby."

"Did you know we stopped sleeping in the same bed for two weeks now? That I don't even get to see him in the morning? Not even a goodbye kiss?" More tears run down my cheek and I don't even bother to wipe them away.

"Oh, Gabi... come here." She envelopes me into a motherly hug and before I knew it, I was crying non stop and letting all my worries out.

* * *

"Troy, my boy, you knew it wouldn't be easy."

"I didn't think it was going to be this hard either. Is it even healthy that we're arguing? Is it even good for the baby?"

"Lemme tell you something son. When your mother was five months pregnant with you, she left me. Temporarily of course. She stayed at her parents house for a week. We both couldn't handle the fighting, the pressures so for both our sanities, she left for awhile. And at that time, I missed her. I would give anything just to hear her nag in the morning if it meant that she's back. It worked out in the end but every marriage, especially during a pregnancy, hits a bump in the road."

"I'm just not used to fighting with her all the time. I know marriage takes work. I know that... it's just-," I look towards the kitchen area, "did you hear that?"

"Hear what? It's probably your mother watching some of her soaps or something."

"No, I don't think so."

I stand up and watch towards the kitchen, faltering when I hear Gabriella's voice.

"I'm scared that I won't be a good mother. I have no clue what to do with this baby. I mean, what if I screw up her life? I'm not fit to be a mother. It's too early. Too soon."

I cautiously watch to the kitchen to see Gabriella crying and hugged by my mother.

"Gabriella, you're going to be a wonderful mother. I had the same fear when I was pregnant with Troy. I was in unchartered waters and I have no clue. You live and learn honey, one day at a time. Once the baby comes, that maternal instinct of yours will tell you what to do. And you need to talk to Troy."

I guess I wasn't as stealth as I thought I was because I see my mother motioning me to come over and slowly detaching herself from my wife.

Ella looks up and upon seeing me; she drops her head and starts to fiddle with her thumbs. Without even really looking at her, I knew that she was biting her lip - a nervous habit of hers that I find incredibly endearing.

"I'm sorry for walking out on you like that."

"You're sorry? I should be the one apologizing. I'm the one who messes everything up here."

I sit in front of her and take her hands.

"Lets get one thing straight, Ella. Both of us are making a muck of things. We're going to be new parents Gabriella - we're still getting the hang of this. We both made mistakes and quite frankly, we should have talked to each other about our concerns so how about we promise to do so in the future eh?"

"When did you become so smart? I thought I was the freaky genius in this relationship?" She smiles and I realize how much I've missed her.

I return a grin of my own and tease her, "Nah, I was just trying to play dumb. Heard it was a huge turn on for lots of gals."

She laughs and to my surprise, she launches herself in my arms. For a moment there, I had to steady myself - with the extra weight and all and I wrap my arms around her, as close as possible with her huge tummy in the way. I kiss her forehead and mumbles, "I love you Gabriella Montez-Bolton."

Ella looks up at me, in those hazel brown eyes of hers filled with love and replies, "Ditto, Troy Bolton."

"You know Ella, you're not the only one who is scared. I have no clue what it means to be a father… I look at you, and I see a mother. You fuss over everyone. You are great with kids. But me, what do I know about being a father?"

She strokes my cheek and say, "You wanna know what I see when I look at you… I see a man who will give up anything for this baby. I see a man who is caring and protective. I see a man who loves me and our baby. And right now, that's all that matters. Because Troy, I wouldn't have it any other way. You've been taking care of me throughout this whole pregnancy. You've been patient with me despite all my nagging. If there's one thing I'm sure of, its that you're going to be a great father to this child."

I smile at her and knew that everything is going to be okay.

"I promise to give you a goodbye kiss every morning. And I promise to try and come home early and to sleep in our bed again."

"And I promise to stop taking out my frustrations on you. And Troy, you being here is enough. I know you're tired and I don't want you exhausting yourself just to please me."

I rub her growing belly and smile as she moans.

"But I love pleasing you, Ella. You and this baby mean the world to me."

"Thank you. I don't know what I would do without you." I see her yawn.

"How about we head home and even stop by the supermarket to pick up some of your cravings?"

"Pickles with peanut butter and caramel sauce?" She pouts.

"I wouldn't have it any other way, Ella."

I pat her butt and let her lead the way out of my childhood home. Saying our goodbye to my parents, I hear Ella mumble the words, 'pickles', 'cheese' and 'marshmallow' and I smile at her brand new craving.

"So it's a girl huh?" I hear myself asking as I help her get in the car.

"What are you taking about?"

"Our baby – she's a girl."

"Now where did you hear that Bolton? You know that we both told the doctor to not reveal the sex of the baby." She tries to cover her earlier slip up.

"Nice try, Ella. But I heard you refer to the baby as 'her' earlier. I thought we wanted it to be a surprise. Where's the infamous Montez self-control?"

She raises her hand and shrugs. "I tried okay. And I didn't technically ask. The nurse was standing next to me, looking at my chart and I accidentally saw the gender…"

"Accidentally huh?"

She playfully hits my shoulder and I smile at her.

"A girl. I've always wanted a mini-Gabriella running around. Cute curls with hazel eyes."

"Well, I wanted a boy," she pouts, "She's going to be spoiled – daddy's little princess."

"You betcha."

As I drive us to the nearest grocery store, we start picking girl names and I knew, right then and there, this is the life, and boy is it great.

* * *

So, whadya think? Good? Bad?


End file.
